


Sexting Central

by Jeldenil



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crack, Exhibitionism, Hogwarts Express, M/M, Neville isn't actually present, Sexting, Smut, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-18 17:35:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18254594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jeldenil/pseuds/Jeldenil
Summary: Draco withdraws into an empty compartment for some very important research into Muggle romance. He doesn't expect anyone to join him.





	Sexting Central

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my lovely beta [saphira_black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saphira_black)

Outside of the train carriage, thick flakes were covering the landscape in a freezing blanket. Ironic, Draco thought, that just as they’d return from Christmas Break, it finally started snowing. He leaned back in his seat, comforting in the thought that he’d managed to cast a robust disillusionment charm and he was quite alone with his book - a Christmas present from Pansy. It had been packed innocently enough, fake book cover and all, and he didn’t think Mother or Father knew what it really was.  
In any case, it was safely on its way to Hogwarts now, together with Draco. His eyes scanned the pages, his neck warm enough that he’d needed to open his collar, but otherwise Draco was completely unaffected. It was just a book. And badly written at that. Just a book. 

_Augustin gasped for breath, his bare chest covered in sweat. His tanned skin glimmered in the pale moonlight. He licked his plump lips as if he was dying for a tall drink. Straining against the ropes that tied him to the ship’s mast, the wayward Prince waited for the Captain to deal out his rightful punishment._

Draco shifted in his seat, his eyes glued to the page. This was going to be interesting. From a purely scientific point of view, of course. It was research. Yes, that was what it was. He’d write an essay on it. Muggles and romance. He’d need more books like this one. 

The door to his compartment slid open, but nobody entered. Startled, Draco nearly dropped his book. It was like he’d felt someone’s eyes on him for a second. He glanced around him, but didn’t see or hear anything. Shaking the feeling of being watched off, he refreshed his charms and dove back into his book. 

_Captain Llewyn sent the Prince a cross, disappointed look. His ice blue eyes looked dark and threatening in the sparse light. His shirt could barely contain his strong upper body, his muscles bulging as he wielded his whip._

Draco bit his lip in anticipation of the following scene and flipped his page. Across from him, he thought he glanced movement, but it was just the briefest fraction of a second, and Draco could have thought he’d imagined it, if it wasn’t for an audible click. A breath later, and nobody else but Harry Bloody Potter emerged out of nowhere, shrugging off his damned invisibility cloak. The Golden Boy Who Lived Twice. The Saviour of the Wizarding world, had sneaked into Draco’s compartment and was now pointing his wand at the door, spelling it shut, blinded and sound-proof. 

Fuck.  
Draco should have thought of that.  
Fuck Square.  
Now he was trapped in here with Potter, who seemed to have no idea he was seated across from a concealed Draco and his Muggle Studies research. 

In fact, Potter seemed perfectly at ease in his seat, stretching his legs out before him. It was all Draco could do to draw back his own legs swiftly and soundlessly, and pretend he wasn’t there. The next moment it became apparent what the source of the mysterious clicking noise had been, as Potter produced a Muggle device from the pocket of his oversized and overwashed hoodie. Draco believed it was called a call-lunar. Or something like that. It was sleek and grey and Potter had apparently clicked it open in his pocket, and was now tapping on the tiny keys, producing more, but softer, clicking noises. 

_Texting someone_ , Draco’s brain provided in Millicent’s helpful voice. It escaped him how it worked, but Millie had said it had something to do with Wireless Waves and a Muggle technology called Electricksity. As to whom Potter was texting, there was only one possible answer, now was it? Had to be Longbottom. Potter had just spent the entire Christmas Break in the company of the entire family of ginger-headed Weasleys and -of course- Granger, while Longbottom had stayed behind at Hogwarts to help out professor Sprout with winter gardening. According to Blaise, who’d stayed behind for less altruistic reasons - avoiding his mother’s company - Longbottom had spent most of his free time texting Potter in the few spots where there was somehow ‘almost decent signal’. 

Apparently the castle’s magic interfered with Muggle technology too much to actually talk through the weird little devices, but sending notes on them was still possible. It was quicker and more reliable than owlpost, Millie claimed, but Draco wasn’t sold. Anyone could get their hands on your call-lunar, and what then? Notes, you could just burn. Call-lunars were too expensive to dispose off after every exchange. No. He wouldn’t get one if he could avoid it. But watching Potter texting Longbottom was an interesting opportunity, to say the least. Even if it wasn’t exactly what he’d planned for his afternoon train ride. 

He’d watched the pair together before, from a distance, feeling a weird mixture of envy, disappointment and longing. They had gotten together shortly after Eight Year started, and Draco wasn’t quite sure yet what to make of it. The Weaslette had gone off with Lovegood and everything in the heroes’ circle seemed to run smoothly. It couldn’t be denied that Potter and Longbottom made quite the attractive couple; Longbottom finally looked at home in his now stupidly fit body, and Potter had filled out nicely during the summer, undoubtedly force-fed by the Weasley Matriarch. Still, Draco felt uneasy - it wasn’t that he begrudged them their happiness, after all, if anyone deserved it, it were Potter and his little clique of heroes. Rather, it felt to him like something wasn’t quite finished, and most of all, it made him feel abandoned. Which was completely ridiculous, of course. Neither Potter nor Longbottom had any obligations to him, Merlin, they weren’t even friends. They were on speaking terms at most. Draco had his own friends. He was being an idiot. 

Draco tried to shake the feeling, and focus on his book, but it was as good as impossible. Potter’s breath was getting heavy as he clicked away on his device, and his left hand slipped dangerously close to his crotch every few seconds between sending texts and receiving them, indicated by a soft buzzing sound. It wasn’t long before it dawned on Draco what Potter was really doing - he was dirty-talking to his boyfriend over his Muggle device. And it was affecting him. 

Feeling awfully embarrassed but at the same time impossibly intrigued, Draco lowered his book and peered at the hero sitting across from him. 

Another few clicks, and Potter now blatantly palmed his cock through his jeans - jeans which were obviously tenting. Draco held his breath and stared. If his eyes weren’t mistaken, Potter had a rather sizeable prick in there. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and Draco wasn’t going to ignore it. If Potter wished to fondle himself right in front of him, who was he to deny? The only problem was that he could not possibly join his former adversary in the fun on risk of exposing himself - quite literally. 

Speaking of, exposing himself was exactly what Potter was doing, as he put his call-lunar on the little table between Draco and himself in order to free his erection. Draco just managed to muffle an audible groan when it came into view, flushed, large and beautiful, with beads of pre leaking from the tip. Potter tilted his head back in obvious pleasure as he gave it a couple of slow, unhurried strokes, pulling back the foreskin and exposing the shiny glans. Draco swallowed, overcome with a rather strong desire to lick it - but he stayed put in his seat, holding on to his book for dear life. 

Something buzzed. As if in trance, Draco watched as Potter picked up his device again, flushed about whatever it was Longbottom had written to him, and let out an obscenely inspired moan before quickly answering and putting it down once more, now in a visibly more hurried state. Potter grabbed hold of his cock again and gave it a couple of urgent pumps, apparently getting lost in some kind of fantasy he and Longbottom were sharing. Draco desperately wanted to know what it was - perhaps he should try and get a hold of Potter’s device. Back in Hogwarts, of course. 

“Nev,” Potter groaned as he tugged his engorged prick, his eyes closed and his face as flustered as Draco felt.  
“I neeeeeed…” He opened his eyes and reached for his call-lunar as it buzzed again, eager to read Longbottom’s latest inspirational quote. This time he continued wanking as he somehow managed to type his reply one-handed, a rather admirable feat if you asked Draco. But desperate times call for desperate measures, and it was plain to see that Potter was getting closer and closer to desperation in his plight to resolve his arousal. 

“Nggg, fuck,” he groaned, his hand now sliding up and down along his cock at such a speed that it became almost blurry. Draco had a feeling that Potter was close to finishing, and he couldn’t suppress a soft moan of his own at the prospect of seeing Potter’s face when he’d come. Praying to Merlin that Potter hadn’t heard him, he covered his mouth with his hand - relieved to notice the other had not only missed his sound but was so completely gone he would probably miss it if Draco would stand up and sneak out of the compartment. Not that Draco wanted to do that - not yet. 

Potter made an absolutely ravishing sight, dishevelled and flushed a deep red, his eyes rolled back in his skull and his mouth hanging slightly open. His breath came out in quick, hard pants, and as Draco followed the swift, urgent movement of Harry’s hand with his eyes, he could see the culmination of Potter’s pleasure spilling over his fingers. 

The Gryffindor looked utterly blissed out as he grunted through his climax, like a kind of beautiful, wild animal, on display for Draco. A gorgeous, happy smile spread on his face and Draco ached with longing. Longbottom was one lucky bastard to be able to make Potter look like this. They were both lucky bastards. 

Draco sighed softly and was about to get back to reading, even though he was considerably less interested in the Prince and his Captain’s adventures now. He looked up one last time, however - and found Potter staring right back at him, a knowing look in his eyes and a broad grin on his face. Shit. How - Did he know-? 

“Thanks, Malfoy,” Potter said deliberately as he cleaned himself off and tucked back in.  
“Do get yourself a cell, will you? Bullstrode has my number.” 

And with that, he got up, exiting the compartment - just in time for the Trolley witch to offer sweets.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for leaving kudos, and I really appreciate any thoughts and comments  
> And go read the amazing follow-up fic by [keyflight790](https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790),   
> [Sexting Station](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18261365)


End file.
